Tycondrius lifted the human up by the neck. The man clawed at Tycon's grip with his good arm and he kicked at his feet, unable to reach the ground.
The response was good... but it was... wrong.
An annoyed frown etched into Tycon's face. He was looking for a specific response: Repentance.
Why was no one repenting? He had specifically requested it.
Perhaps the man hadn't heard him? A large amount of adrenaline should be coursing through the gentleman's veins-- after all, his useless arm was a sliver of bone away from falling off of his body.
Tycon hated repeating himself, but circumstance seemed to demand it. He was used to shouting in hectic combat situations, but he wished the notion hadn't annoyed him so.
"REPENT!!!" Tycon screamed into the man's face, "--or your LIVES ARE FORFEIT!!!"
He changed his halberd grip, moving it up to just below the blade, "⌈Legionbreaker.⌋"
